


I Want To See Your Face

by traumatic_bunny



Series: The Void [2]
Category: Take That
Genre: Angst, Dubious Consent, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-20
Updated: 2012-07-20
Packaged: 2017-11-18 20:54:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/565197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/traumatic_bunny/pseuds/traumatic_bunny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>inspired by yet another <a href="http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m7ch6npOY71rwwfgoo1_1280.jpg">drawing</a> by amazing wintel@tumblr</p>
    </blockquote>





	I Want To See Your Face

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by yet another [drawing](http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_m7ch6npOY71rwwfgoo1_1280.jpg) by amazing wintel@tumblr

"I want to see your face."

"No."

The answer was always no, as long as he remembered, as long as he could remember. And he remembered a lot, contrary to what Gary believed. He remembered basically everything, apart from those few times when he was too out of it on one thing or the other. He remembered everything but he wouldn't say, he wouldn't admit it, still too much of a coward, even after all this time, after all that'd happened between them.

He remembered the face, from long time ago, that frown, those eyes screwed shut, those lips, parted in silent scream, bitten with white teeth, bent in pained-like grimace when everything was just too intense. He remembered the closed up expression of absolute focus before, and the slackening of the jaw after, the smoothing brow, the lips curling up ever so slightly. Gary's face was like an open book in those rare moments when he'd let himself go like that, when the pleasure would take over and make him so easy to read. So handsome.

So beautiful.

Those were the times before they even touched one another in a way that was beyond friendly. Those were the times when they'd still tease and taunt each other, play the stupid everlasting game of gay chicken, do whatever for the public and camera and pretend to each other that they didn't really mean it. Because when that'd changed, everything changed. There was no Gary's face any more, there was just the pleasure and the ragged breathing, hand fisted in hair, curled around the hip, pressed against the back of Rob's shoulder. There was a pillow in the face and a lumpy mattress against the chest, and no more looking, no more peeking. No more seeing.

Rob still remembered the first no he'd got, that time when he was trying to roll over, to get on his back, to see. It was a breathless one, desperate even. No, please, stay like that, I want... I have to, now, I want it so much. He never counted the noes that came later, and then he just stopped asking, stopped caring... stopped. They stopped. The world turned the other way for them.

But that was then and this... This was now, and he would ask again, nervous but hopeful, every time. Even though the answer was never changing.

"No, I want it like that... please..."

It was a true plea, not the one from 'then', not the arrogant, impatient mockery of the word Gary used to give him. No, this one was real, raw and honest, choked out through tight throat and clenched teeth. Gary's shoulders were shaking ever so slightly, maybe because his hands were fisted into the sheets so tightly, till the knuckles went white, and Rob couldn't help himself but to reach out and touch, slide his hand up Gary's spine, under his shirt, feeling those little tremors and trying to sooth them, to chase the tension away. He could feel the other man pushing against his touch, arching into it, but there was more desperation in this gesture than there was trust, and it broke Rob's heart a little, just like every other time.

He'd give Gary what he wanted and how he wanted, with barely any preparation, without holding back, just a quick forceful push in and then equally fast and steady rhythm. That's how Gary wanted it, fast and hard and raw, no mercy, no sweet talking, and every time Rob told himself the next time would be different, on his own terms, the way _he_ wanted it.

Next time he would do is slowly, give this gorgeous man a real pleasure and not just pain, give him a true redemption and not just a punishment. Next time he would touch and stroke, and kiss the random tear or two away, lick it off the stubbly cheek and then kiss those thin lips, making them angry red and tender, making them to kiss back. Next time he'd sit up and look down at this handsome face, see that frown, those eyes, those lips...

Next time.


End file.
